


It's The Thought That Counts

by moranth



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-12
Updated: 2010-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:54:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/139027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moranth/pseuds/moranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Secret Santa Offering. Requester wanted an awkward Christmas on the Normandy involving drell... well this is what I came up with x_X</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's The Thought That Counts

"Thane, need me for something?" Garrus said as he heard the doors at his back slide open. He hadn't heard the heavy footfalls of the Commander, so he knew it wasn't her. That made the assassin the next likely choice.

He'd sent Garrus a message earlier, requesting an audience (he had actually written out "requesting an audience") with him. How could Garrus say no to an appeal like that? It wasn't as if the turian had any place else to be, anyway.

The drell waited for the doors to close behind him before he spoke. "Officer—Garrus." It had taken some time to break Thane of the habit of trying to address Garrus by an honorific, and the turian didn't want him reverting now. He was just plain Garrus now, no longer a member of C-Sec. "Officer Vakarian" was his father. "Can you tell me what you know of the human celebration of Christmas?" Thane continued, standing straight and tall. He didn't bother looking around the cramped quarters, Garrus imagined, because they were just as he remembered them.

To be honest, he'd heard of the holiday, but his knowledge didn't know go much farther than that. Using his human former coworkers as a frame of reference, it involved wearing obnoxiously loud sweaters for a month leading up to a party where most participants ended up nursing hang overs or calling out the next day. Humans seemed to have a lot of "holidays" that winded up being nothing more than an excuse to drink heavily, but that was neither here nor there. He didn't want to give up his hand just yet, so he replied with a casual, "Why do you ask?"

Thane hesitated, a slight but noticeable gesture before he clasped his hands behind his back. He started to pace closer to wear the turian stood with carefully measured steps.

"As of late, I've noticed a troubling turn in Siha's mood."

Garrus tried not to flinch at the use of his nickname for Shepard. It seemed a bit too personal to just toss around, in his opinion.

"I think it has something to do with this time of year; according to Earth's calendar. I think it may have something to do with the loss of her family." Thane stopped just behind Garrus who had yet to turn to face him. He didn't seem to have a problem talking to his back. "She once mentioned that Christmas was her favorite holiday as a child, but she hasn't had the opportunity to celebrate it for many years."

"So what did you have in mind?" Garrus had an idea of where this was going.

"I want to try and recapture that experience for her, if I could. It isn't meant to be a substitution for the ones she's missed, but merely something to give to her for what she's done for me; done for all of us. I know that I cannot do this alone."

"I don't know much about it persay," Garrus finally admitted, feeling a bit like a heel. "But I'm willing to help out any way I can."

Thane dipped his head, bowing stiffly at the waist. "Any assistance you can give would be appreciated. Thank you."

An uncomfortable silence passed as they just stood there, unsure of how to proceed.

"Any idea of what we do next?" Garrus asked, after it had been quiet for too long.

"Questioning the human members of the crew would be the logical course of action," Thane said, visibly flustered. An embarrassed grin crept across his face, a crack in his usually impassive armor. The calm, collected assassin was gone for the moment. He was like any other guy on any planet, trying to do something nice for the one he cared for. And he was afraid of screwing it up. Garrus felt for the guy.

Garrus patted him on the shoulder, a sign of reassurance he didn't extended to many, but he felt that just now it was appropriate. "Don't worry. We'll figure something out."

Spending Christmas aboard a rig always depressed Shepard. She'd never gotten accustomed to the cold, sterile interior all year round. She understood why regulations were against some forms of decoration, but how she longed for the wreath, garland, and gaudy lights of her childhood. Hell, she'd even kill for a few shred of tinsel right about now.

The lack of holiday cheer in the military atmosphere had gotten to the point where Christmas was always taken as a personal day. Shepard wouldn't report for duty, citing personal issues, which wasn't a lie, and just stay in bed and watched old holovids. The whole activity did nothing to improve her mood. Even though she was the head officer of her own ship and made her own rules, this year seemed to be shaping up to be no different.

She was in the middle of drifting back to sleep, when she felt something brush against her ear. It traveled across her cheek and settled on her nose, tickling it.

She squeezed her eyes shut against the annoyance and batted it away lazily before pulling the covers over her head. A second later they were yanked back down, the tickling sensation back at her nose.

"Siha," Thane crooned in her ear and it took all she had not to groan aloud.

"Gimme five more minutes and I'll be right with you," she mumbled as she groped about for the blanket. It was pulled out of reach.

"You must get up, Siha."

Frowning, she strained to listen for the sounds of an emergency alarm blaring or EDI instructing the crew on evacuation procedures. "Is the Normandy on fire?"

"No," he said calmly, though she could feel him shifting around beside her.

"Are we being attacked?"

"No…"

"Then why _must_ I get up?" Groaning, she rolled onto her stomach, smothering her face in the pillows, hoping he would take the hint and give her a few moments.

"I have a gift to give you."

"What for? It's not my birthday."

He still exhibited his saint like patience even though she was being intentionally difficult. For an instant, she wondered how he'd fair as a teacher dealing with unruly students.

"No, it's not your birthday," Thane said, trying to pry the pillow from her grasp, "but it _is_ Christmas."

Lifting her head, she turned a bleary eyed gaze tohim and was immediately sobered by what greeted her. Laying in his usually spot was Thane, atop his head; a hat. But not just any hat: it was the biggest, floppiest Santa had she'd ever seen. It came down over his frills and perched right above his brow ridges. The ridiculous oversized pom-pom was sitting forward, and hung in his eyes. She was surprised he could see around it.

Shepard brushed her nose absently. That must have been what touched her earlier. She tucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it hard, to keep from laughing.

"Where did you get that?" She couldn't stop staring at it as it bobbed against the bridge of his nose with every slight movement of his head.

"I have my connections." He slid a finger under the edge of the hat and straightened it out. The move might have been suave if the ball hadn't swung back and hit him in his left eye.

Sucking in a sobering breath, she gently moved the ball to the back of his head, earning her a gracious. "Thank you, Siha."

"So where is this gift?"

He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips before pointing up. Hanging above the bed was a sprig of mistletoe.

"You've done your homework I see."

"I'm nothing if not thorough." He put a hand against her back and gave her a gentle push. "You have to get dressed to see what else awaits you."

He was always so cryptic. "I'm not so sure I want it then. Nothing good ever came from getting dressed." But even through the mystery, she could see that he was excited.

"Siha…"

"Fine," she huffed as she dragged herself out of bed to see that Thane was already dressed and ready, the bright red and white of his hat clashing sharply with the dark colors of his outfit. "If I have to get dressed, then you have to leave that hat on all day."

He tugged on the hat once more making the fuzz ball fall back into his eyes. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they made their way down to the crew deck, Shepard found herself unsettled by the quiet. Most of the Normandy was empty, the crew having gone ashore to engage in holiday festivities as they saw fit. Only a sparse few, mostly aliens, stayed aboard to fend for themselves.

They passed by a number of abandoned post and dimly lit stations. She didn't think that it would bother her as much as it did.

Rounding the corner to the mess hall, she could hear small sounds of life. Shepard readied herself for more of the same bleak scene that had prevailed throughout the rest of the ship. She expected to see one or two squad members enjoying solitary meals and not much else. Nothing could have been further from what she found.

Milling around the canteen was what was left of her crew; Tali and Garrus were crowded around something, though she couldn't tell what it was, Grunt was excitedly pacing behind them. Jack and Zaeed were keeping their distance from the rest, but that they were present at all spoke volumes.

Thane cleared his throat as they got closer, and everyone went rigid. They turned to face them and crowded around joined Tali and Garrus.

"Merry Christmas!" A mishmash of human and alien voices chorused as they parted, and revealed what they'd been hiding. In the middle of the mess hall sat a miniature palm tree. Shepard quirked a brow as she took a step towards it to inspect the odd looking ornaments hanging precariously from it.

This was… unexpected.

Shepard bit her lip as she stared at the tree, unsure of what to say/ She listened to the sounds of not so hushed whispering behind her.

"Why is she looking at it like that?" Thane said, visibly flustered.

The turian sighed, sounding far too tired for this early in the cycle. "How should I know?"

"I told you it wasn't the right kind of tree," Thane fired back, sounding more annoyed than angry.

"A tree is a tree as far as I can tell, and this one was easier to carry back on the ship by myself. That one they had with the needles was huge and itchy."

Shepard took one of the black and orange candy canes in her hands and tossed a glance to a snickering Jack. There were decorations from just about every Earth holiday she could think of. Underneath the tree were eggs that were not boiled or painted. Gardner was going to have a fit when he got back.

Large banners printed in red, black and orange hung from the walls in neat rows with pictures of pumpkins, hearts and the oddest looking hand turkeys she'd ever seen: most of them used less than five fingers.

The tables were lined with what little food they could scrounge up from their food reserves. She'd never suspected that anyone on board, besides Gardner fancied themselves a cook, and she wasn't disappointed. Prepackaged meals and booze were laid out in an interesting spread, separated by dextro and levo needs. It was not at all traditional, it wasn't anything like how she remembered; it was wonderful.

Before Shepard could get her bearings, the restless young krogan shouldered his way through the crowd, his movements filled with excited energy.

"Battlemaster," he started, making no attempt to calm himself, "how old are you?"

Shepard squinted, looking from Thane to Garrus who looked away, suddenly more interested in the contents of his cup. "Why are you asking me that?"

"I looked up this _holiday_ ," he spat the word out as if it had left a bad taste in his mouth. "And it mentions a 'shepherd.' Is that you?"

He seemed delighted by the idea that his Battlemaster was not only the toughest human around, but the oldest. She didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise, so she nodded.

He looked even more excited, (as if that were possible). "What about these 'kings', Shepard? They sound formidable. Did you beat them too?"

"She sure did." Kelly appeared at Grunt's elbow and patted him gently as she tried to steer him away. "I'll tell you all about it later."

He cast her a disdainful look before leaving their company, to no doubt add more to Shepard's already illustrious track record.

Kelly took Shepard by the arm and walked them a little ways away from the group. She lowered her voice to conspiratorial tones. "Sorry, Commander, by the time I heard about this whole thing, it had already gotten out of hand. They were so into it, I couldn't bear to tell them what they did wrong. I hope it's OK."

Shepard couldn't suppress her grin any longer. "Don't worry about it. They didn't do anything wrong. "

The yeoman looked at her incredulously before she shrugged.

But something had been bugging Shepard since she was woken up that morning. She knew she wouldn't be able to rest until the she had found the answer. "Do you know where the heck Thane got that hat?"

"That would be me," Kelly replied her cheeks looking a little flushed. "It's something I had when I was a kid that I like to keep around for a little bit of holiday spirit. I figured it would be good to have at least one authentic thing."

Shepard bit down on her fist at the thought of the yeoman wearing the same hat. It was nearly as amusing as the drell, who even now was parading around it as if nothing was amiss. Shepard coughed to clear her throat, but the sound came out as choked laughter. "Where did you find the mistletoe? I didn't think it would last in storage..."

Kelly quirked a brow. "I didn't have any mistletoe…"

Shepard grinned and turned to looked at Thane who was taking his turn at tending the tree. Ever the perfectionist, he kept rearranging the ornaments, his mouth turned down in displeasure.

He focused intent on trying to get the tree to loop properly, he didn't turn to face her as he approached him. "I had hoped to give you a celebration similar to what you experienced as a child. I fear that I've failed in that respect."

Shepard looped her hands around his waist, leaning heavily against his back. "I thought you were pretty successful, myself. It's the thought that counts, after all."

A neutral "hmm" was his response.

"Do you need some sort of affirmation?"

She felt him stiffen, as he turned to look back at her. "What did you have in mind?"

"You'll find out later, when I give you _your_ present," she said cheekily and was rewarded with low rumbling.

The event couldn't have been better if she planned it herself. This Christmas would surely be a memorable one, since she was fortunate enough to spend it with him.

This had turned out better than she ever would have thought it would, because she was fortunate enough to be able to spend it with him.


End file.
